Daybreak
by TheRealOGMai
Summary: He never liked mornings. She didn't mind them as long as he was there next to her. Apocalypse AU but nothing too harsh. No longer gonna be a One-shot. Greens. Rewritten, sorry for typos. I will do chapters based on prompts/ideas given in the reviews.
1. Daybreak Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but an imaginary puppy. (If it is imaginary, do I really own it? I own my mind, so I guess so.) I am rewriting this story slowly but surely. I will be updating it as well. I wrote this a good while ago, so I am trying again. Hope you guys like the chapter. Not too much will be changed.

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Butch never liked mornings, and never appreciated them. Now he saw them in a completely different light. Each morning meant another day that he lived while 98.6 percent of the world's population didn't. A little over 76 million people are left, and though the number seems big, it pales in comparison to the 7.5e billion people that walked the Earth before.

He had chemical X to thank for that. The virus that decimated practically everyone he knew was widely known as the "Z Virus". It came quickly and spread like a wave. Only communities and civilizations that had limited contact with the rest of the modern world survived. Tribal and nomadic groups stayed intact, and the Americas was the first to fall. With its bustling cities and dense living areas, the World Superpower that was The United States of America was super no longer.

Butch remembered it clearly. People dropping like flies with no warning ten years ago. No symptoms, no turning into slow-moving reanimated corpses. Just the sudden loss of breath and the breaking down of one's body. The physical body was gone in under thirty minutes. Only a bit of yellow dust comprised bone was left until the wind carried it away. A grimly beautiful departure as there was no screaming in agony or pleas for a quick end. No blood and no flesh left, Butch decided it would have been a not-so-bad way to die. It wouldn't hurt like a sonic blast to the chest, it wouldn't hurt like being burned by Hell's heat as his diabolical "father/mother" HIM watched and laughed it twisted glee. It would not hurt like the time he died at the hands of Buttercup Utonium with her simple peck to his dirty cheek at six years old. Well, looking back at it now, that pain may have been worth it. Remembering his ridiculously huge crush on his enemy Butch decided. Yes, blowing up was so worth it.

Barely anyone was left it Townsville within a month after the virus started to spread. When the Professor realized the Chemical X's ability to prevent the virus, it was infused into a pill that Professor hastily made. It was taken by as many as possible around the world in order to protect ethnic, and cultural groups. It worked, and no group went extinct. Damaged but not completely decimated.

Shifting in his bed, Butch glanced over at the figure of his wife. Though a technically unofficial wedding as there were no marriage papers, Butch and Buttercup had a small, intimate wedding in the backyard of Buttercup's childhood home eight years ago. She rejected anything elaborate, and if she had her way completely they would have just exchanged rings and that would have been that. Unfortunately for her, Butch was somewhat of a hopeless romantic. He wanted the wedding album, the vanilla wedding cake with buttermilk frosting, and the bachelor party that consisted of him and his brothers playing videogames at the arcade they practically grew up in for twenty-four hours straight and drowning themselves in as much root beer, nachos, and other forms of junk food as they could find. An admittedly difficult feat as the production of such food items had practically come to a screeching halt after the events of the virus

His wife slept still as the sun rose higher into the sky. Butch was glad to have her in his life. Her and their three children. His brothers, sisters in law, and nieces and nephews were important too, but if Buttercup had somehow been taken by the virus, he would have lost his mind. He couldn't lose her before he truly had her.

Deciding to get up and start the fire in their gas stove, he made a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. Fresh from the chickens they kept in their backyard and the bread he had picked up from the Jonathans two houses down in one of the many the complexes within New Townsville. NT held one-third of what was left of the world's population and so these simple, efficient complexes are massively important to preserving the current standard of living. It was Townsville reborn. A central hub of technology and innovation. A true utopia and futuristic marvel. There were no factories, everything that was produced was handmade. Hence, the bread. Everyone had a role, and everyone was respected.

For such a technologically advanced hub, Butch could not fathom why his family still used a gas stove. Buttercup swore it just cooked meals better.

Her words from years ago echoed in his head, "Anything else just doesn't cook right, Butch. If you get rid of my stove, I swear I will burn your VR set. I will crush the ashes under my pretty little feet."

Butch felt small arms circle his arm that rested against the kitchen counter and another pair around his waist. The boys were up. Their grips were hard as they each tried to scale up their father in a playful race. Their giggling was music to Butch's ears. Soft pitter pattering sounded through the house as someone jumped down the stairs with a soft thump. The sound of socks sliding and shuffling away against the floor caught his attention as well. His little angel/ not so much an angel was up.

"No running! You know that!" Sleep laced and raspy, his wife's voice called out to their children as she descended the stairs. Hair a wild mess, and cut right at her shoulders, his old "Ace and the GG Gange band" shirt hung off her shoulders as a makeshift sleepy dress. Fluffy socks on her feet, she sluggishly trudged over to her husband to exchange "Good Mornings" and quick pecks before she found herself atop an island stool. She promptly laid her head onto the cool surface of the island as let her eyes fall shut.

Looking at his wife and children running around their home at supernatural speeds, Butch was grateful to see another daybreak.


	2. Daybreak Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but an imaginary puppy. (If it is imaginary, do I really own it? I own my mind, so I guess so.) I am rewriting this story slowly but surely. I will be updating it as well. I wrote this a good while ago, so I am trying again. Hope you guys like the chapter. Not too much will be changed. This is the last of the revised chapters. The next ones will be new.

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It was hard for Buttercup to wake up. She was a deep sleeper and could not help to compare her sleeping habits to her husband's. While she was still and quiet when she slept, Butch was light and talkative. He spoke his dreams and those words betrayed his thoughts. SHe thought it to be the cutest thing ever. Never did she think she would get mushy over something so trivial. So simple, but boy did she get mushy.

It was in the dead of night after the first handful of virus victims of Townville passed that he said those three words.

The Jojo brothers were spending the night despite the Professor's wary opinion. What if close contact caused the virus to spread? John Utonium did not want to take any chances. It took a lot of convincing, a long stare down between Bubbles' puppy eyes and the Professor's hard faltering stare, and a couple of minutes of haggling from Blossom and a bit of bartering on Buttercup's part, but John eventually caved. He understood their want for normalcy among all the pain, death, and uncertainty. They needed something recognizable and similar in their lives to feel safe. To feel secure that not all hope was lost.

The movie marathon that the girls planned started with six people up and actually paying attention to the random assortment of movies and ended with one left awake. Buttercup just couldn't fall asleep. Her mind was swimming in fear of the unknown.

'What if the Professor gets infected? What if any of them gets infected?' She looked around the room and her eyes landed on each for a few seconds. She never noticed her gaze lingered the longest on the boy whose head laid on her lap. Gently running a small hand through his inky locks, she felt him sigh. Pushing his head deeper into her lap, he let out a muffled "I love you" before his breathing became steady again.

She denied it at first. he could be talking about someone else, but then she remembered that he chose to lay on her lap. He chose to sit next to her. He chose to wrap his arm around her in a permanent hug as they watched the widescreen. He only let her go after he declared that he would sleep in her lap whether she liked it or not.

She did not know then that as Butch stated what he planned to do, he secretly hoped she wouldn't mind, and even hoped that she would run her fingers through his hair as she did. Though not to his knowledge, she did.

Years later Buttercup decided it _was_...cute. The way he spoke in his sleep at times. The way he grabbed at anything near and held it tight. Whether it was a pillow, her, or one of their children, the poor child was trapped until he moved again. Even their above natural strength was enough to move their unconscious father. Maybe in the future, she would let them know that the only sure-fire way to get him off was to stick him hard under his left armpit. For some odd reason, it is his only weak spot, but it makes him jump like a cartoon cat. Even is already spiky/wavy hair seems to stand on end when it happens.

Buttercup didn't like waking up in the morning. It was the night that comforted her, it welcomed her. Maybe she would learn to like them as her children and husband did. Maybe she should learn to like the sunlight burning her eyelids, beckoning her to wake up.

For now, she would continue to watch over her loved ones at night, and listen to them stir. Listen to their whispers of "I love you", and then sleep like a rock until noon. Or maybe just until 1:30, just to be safe.


	3. Daybreak Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything but an imaginary puppy. (If it is imaginary, do I really own it? I own my mind, so I guess so.)

I am rewriting this story slowly but surely. I will be updating it as well. I wrote this a good while ago, so I am trying again. Hope you guys like the chapter. Not too much will be changed. This is the first new chapter

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Bella was young, but she understood more than what people gave her credit for. She knew of the virus and what it did. She knew that she was different because of the power she held, but Bella was a humble girl. While her older brothers flaunted their strength during wild head-on spars with their cousins, she actually thought about her actions. She was similar to her aunt Blossom in that way. A thinker, and due to this sleeping wasn't so easy. Bella's nights were filled with thoughts that a six-year-old generally did not have.

"Is the virus able to mutate despite the vaccine?" She questioned. Like her mother, she feared the unknown.

"Can I protect my family if it does?" Bella worried about her brothers just as much as they did for her.

It was a school night and her mother had bathed her and quickly dried and brushed her hair for her. Her freshly trimmed tips reaching to the middle of her back. All while Bella grumbled about how she could do it herself.

"I'm a big girl momma! I can do it! It's not that hard and you keep getting soap in my eyes." She assured as Buttercup tugged her daughter's nightgown down.

Smiling down at her, Buttercup flashed her a small grin. "I know, but I like getting you all clean and dressed. I mean, you would rather me than your papa right? He would get soap everywhere not just in your eyes. Like last week. Remember the ceiling?"

The girl blanched, yes. She did remember.

Her mother bid her goodnight after her daughter claimed to be wide awake. She promised her daughter to tug her in the next day since she wasn't tired as of yet. Bella was far from tired, as the thoughts came back.

She finally climbed into her bed after a solid twenty minutes of pacing, squirming apprehensively with her Green Ultra Power Hero action figure clutched tightly in her small hand. Why was she so worried?! Looking at her ceiling until her eyes fluttered shut, Bella slept a dreamless sleep.

Though Bella did not exactly have dreams, the girl would always remember that feeling of floating as she slept. It was different from when she flew up into the skies above her home or when she floated around her room. Hovering just enough for that her big toe failed to drag on her fluffy gray carpet.

This floating was soft, cold, and all she could remember is that darkness swallowing her whole. It was as if she was stuck in a vacuum in space, and if Bella knew the word she would call the feeling enigmatic. That fear of the unknown in that darkness she knows too well makes it feel almost like a nightmare.

Sometimes, she would wake up slowly, groggily, and upset in the middle of the night. Her holographic clock that projected on her nightstand would read an absurd time with its soft glow. Looking into that light alone was sometimes enough to lull her back to sleep. Other times, floating in nothingness would be too much for the girl and again she would hover to her parent's room. Slowly, and just low enough that her big toe easily glided on her fluffy carpet and then onto the warmed floor of her parent's bedroom.

As Bella awoke the next morning, she again remembered the floating, the darkness, the cold. Despite that, she still valued her sleep greatly. A conflicting thing as she liked to go to sleep late and sleep until the sun bothered her too much for her to stay asleep. Her papa intentionally drew her curtains open in the morning to wake her up this way. Any other way of waking the girl up ended up it death glares and dark muttering. Cursing whoever woke her up to sleepless nights. Her bright emerald eyes would turn dark, almost black as she did.

Maybe one day she would get used to it. Maybe one day she will encounter light in that void. Maybe one day she will have a dream about helping Green Ultra Power Hero save the day and the world with her powers.

Climbing out of bed she was met with the sun brightening in her window. The light almost hurting her eyes, but she could not look away. At least until her brothers came barging in.

"Bella! We are gonna try to do ultimate dodgeball in recess today. You have to be on our team!" They stated together. Both pointing at their younger (barely; by only one year and some months) sister.

Hearing them talk and act in unison, as usual, was still strange to her. Twins are weird.

"Pinky promise it! Or you're gonna be a traitor!" They thundered. The fire of competition in their eyes would have scared the girl if she wasn't the same way at times.

Giving them a tight smile, she flashed them a thumbs up. They left in a blur of dinosaur footie pajamas and Bella could already hear them talking their mama's ears off.

Buttercup's "uh huhs" and "oh really?" reached her ears and decided that her mama must still be really sleepy. Glancing over at her pastel green bed covers, Bella decided that she was too.

A quick nap wouldn't hurt.

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Thank you for reading! Hope you guys stick around for the next chapter.


	4. Daybreak Chapter 4

Hello...hehehehehe. I don't own anything, so don't sue me. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Thanks for checking it out.

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When you enter the Green Jojo residence, beware of the twins. If you don't care for firey declarations of high-stakes pillow wars and the slight chance of getting pranked on a suspiciously quiet afternoon, stay clear of the house with the green door.

Benny and Baxter. The two rough-heads of the household. The two called themselves the Barons of Berserk. A fun nickname that would possibly follow them for the rest of their adolescence.

They even went as far as begging their mother for matching t-shirts with the title. The words emblazoned in black and green in a flame like lettering on the back, with a grinning, mischievous looking smiley face on the front.

Their mama designed it herself and had four made. Two for each, because man did they love it. They slept in them sometimes, wore them to school, and even on the weekends. Those flames signified something for the boys. A sense of power, the importance of a title, and it looked super awesome. At least they thought so.

With their matching shirts, they were indistinguishable from each other. They always have been, at least to everyone who didn't rest their heads under the same roof as them.

Butch would be the first to admit that when Benny and Baxter were born, he definitely could not tell them apart, not like Buttercup did. Maybe it was a motherly instinct that allowed her to just _know_.

 _"How do you know the difference Butters?"_

 _He couldn't stop staring at his infant boys._

 _Just hours old, he was still a little afraid of holding them. He feared the worse, because Heaven knows what these hands of his have done. What they have ripped apart, the buildings they have torn down in the past._

 _His wife shrugged at his question. Her eyes glassy, the smile that played on her lips bright and wide despite the pain and discomfort she endured._

 _"I just do. They look exactly alike, but I just know which is which. You will too eventually."_

 _Butch nodded at that. Yeah, he would. Eventually, but not yet._

Both had the same bright forest green eyes, toothless grin and a full head of curly unruly jet black hair. Curlier than either of their parents, but the thickness was there. Their grandpa John Utonium didn't really understand where their hair type came from. Genetics got weird when you incorporated Chemical x.

As rough as the boys seemed ( or at least tried to seem) they were huge softies. Sure they liked to spar, roughhouse, and climb their father every now and then, but one thing they loved to do just as much was _cuddle._

The Barons of Berserk loved to lay next to their mother and bury their heads into her sides, feet scrunched up on the couch with their mother's hands combing through their dense curls. Sometimes, right before they truly started to doze off, she would rub their backs in the gentlest way.

They never passed up laying on their father's back as he slept. Most often than not drifting off to Sleepy Land with him as his rhythmic breathing calmed them. Though their father wasn't as comfy as they would have liked, not compared to mama at least.

During the family's "Pajama Nights" and various other family time nights they would flank their sister's sides, each prepared to lay their heads on top hers as the night drew closer. It would always eventually end with them flopped against her, holding her small frame up as the three children slept.

Each son valued a good nap and nights sleep, more so than their sister. Their heads didn't fill with constant thoughts of the virus and protecting their family. They already knew they were capable.

Why worry about something like that? They assured themselves that no matter what, they would do what it took to their family safe. If anything did happen, well...maybe that's where the "Berserk" part comes in. Nowhere near as level-headed as their younger sister, even Butch believed that they had the capability to be even more extreme than _"Hardcore Bubbles"_ , and that's saying something. Hardcore Bubbles is something that sends shivers down the spines of everyone who has witnessed it.

Each son sought comfort, whether it was in the laps of their parents or their fluffy pillows that were thrown about there rooms after their daily-neverending pillow fights with each other with the only goal being to knock the other brother down as often and as fast as _possible...hard._

Though they did not sleep as deeply as their mother did, the twin definitely weren't light sleepers. Their dreams were vivid, and both learned that the other could remember then and even control them at times. Aunty Blossom or "Ti Bloss" as they liked to call her as they refused to say "Aunty" correctly, explained to them that it was called Lucid dreaming. In their heads, it was like another superpower, one that impressed them more than the ones they were actually born with.

Baxter always woke up first. Buttercup always joked that it was because he was born first, that it's just in his system to rise earlier than his siblings. Benny would wake up just five minutes after, right before the sun would start to peak over the horizon.

Though both would be sleepy and a bit grumpy initially, one shared look and exchange of wide grins would propel them into hurried scurrying out of their room and into that of their parent's. It would be a useless attempt to wake their sister and mama up, Papa was better prey.

Call them little sadist, but watching their father jump out of bed due to ice cubes down the shirt and insistent tickling was hilarious. They didn't know his weak spot yet, too cautious to get any closer than necessary for fear of getting trapped, but ice and tickling worked too sometimes.


End file.
